From the original edition's entry on the Yale University Press website:
The style of the medieval period, which flows through the bloodstream of western culture, was vigorously re-established in post-Enlightenment England. This one-volume history of the Medieval Revival is the first coherent account of it, especially those aspects that are expressed and reflected in literature. The book focuses on the period 1760 to 1971, with an Epilogue on the reverberations of medievalism in the present day.
The rebuilding of the Palace of Westminster, after its destruction by fire in 1834, re-established Gothic as the national style. But medieval imitation manifests itself wherever one cares to look: in literature, architecture, the applied arts, religion, politics, and even Hollywood. In this skilled dissection of the components of this pervasive cultural movement, Michael Alexander rejects the idea that medievalism was confined to the Victorian period, and overturns the suspicion that it is by its nature escapist.
The style of the medieval period, which flows through the bloodstream of western culture, was vigorously re-established in post-Enlightenment England. This one-volume history of the Medieval Revival is the first coherent account of it, especially those aspects that are expressed and reflected in literature. The book focuses on the period 1760 to 1971, with an Epilogue on the reverberations of medievalism in the present day. The rebuilding of the Palace of Westminster, after its destruction by fire in 1834, re-established Gothic as the national style. But medieval imitation manifests itself wherever one cares to look: in literature, architecture, the applied arts, religion, politics, and even Hollywood. In this skilled dissection of the components of this pervasive cultural movement, Michael Alexander rejects the idea that medievalism was confined to the Victorian period, and overturns the suspicion that it is by its nature escapist.
From the new paperback edition's entry on the Yale University Press website (I read it on my Kindle Fire):
Now reissued in an updated paperback edition, this groundbreaking account of the Medieval Revival movement examines the ways in which the style of the medieval period was re-established in post-Enlightenment England—from Walpole and Scott, Pugin, Ruskin, and Tennyson to Pound, Tolkien, and Rowling.
“Medievalism . . . takes a panoramic view of the ‘recovery’ of the Medieval in English literature, visual arts and culture. . . . Ambitious, sweeping, sometimes idiosyncratic, but always interesting.”—Rosemary Ashton, Times Literary Supplement
“Deeply researched and stylishly written, Medievalism is an unalloyed delight that will instruct and amuse a wide readership.”—Edward Short, Books & Culture
The Table of Contents, with the last names and titles of works listed in each chapter, demonstrates the range of Alexander's survey:
Introduction
The Table of Contents, with the last names and titles of works listed in each chapter, demonstrates the range of Alexander's survey:
Introduction
1. The Advent of the Goths: The Medieval in the 1760s
2. Chivalry, Romances and Revival: Chaucer into Scott: The Lay of the Last Minstrel and Ivanhoe
3. Dim Religious Lights: The Lay, Christabel and 'The Eve of St Agnes'
4. Residences for the Poor: The Pugin of Contrasts
4. Residences for the Poor: The Pugin of Contrasts
5. Back to the Future in the 1840s: Carlyle, Ruskin, Sybil, Newman
6. 'The Death of Arthur was the Favourite Volume': Malory into Tennyson
7. History, the Revival, and the PRB: Westminster, Ivanhoe, visions and revisions
8. History and Legend: The subjects of poetry and painting
9. The Working Man and the Common Good: Madox Brown, Maurice, Morris, Hopkins
10. Among the Lilies and the Weeds: Hopkins, Whistler, Burne-Jones, Beardsley
11. I Have Seen . . . A White Horse: Chesterton, Yeats, Ford, Pound
12. Modernist Medievalism: Eliot, Pound, Jones
13. Twentieth-century Christendom: Waugh, Auden, Inklings, Hill
Epilogue: 'Riding through the glen'
Bibliography
Notes
Index
Acceptance and interest in the Middle Ages--the period between the Fall of Rome and the Renaissance--meant an encounter with Catholicism in Protestant, anti-Catholic England. Michael Alexander acknowledges this fact throughout his study of "The Middle Ages in Modern England". Reformation and Enlightenment Scotland and England had regarded those centuries as the Dark Ages of Faith--the Catholic Faith--and had derided them for superstition and error. As Alexander notes, however, the English parliamentary system had developed in the Middle Ages, so they were wrong to jettison that period. When the Houses of Parliament in Westminster were rebuilt after a devastating fire, the English style of architecture was ordered, and that style was Gothic. The designer of new buildings was A.W. Pugin, but he did not receive the credit for his contribution because he was a convert to Catholicism.
Alexander goes back often to Sir Walter Scott's poetry and historical novels as great inspirations to the revival of interest in the Middle Ages. He notes that John Henry Newman commented on how Scott created interest in the Catholic Middle Ages, even though Scott was not that sympathetic to Catholicism. I think that Alexander misses out on Newman's research into the Middle Ages--because he rightly notes that Newman was most interested in the early centuries of the Church--and neglects his "Second Spring" sermon and his study of the history of the university, which certainly addresses Medieval issues. Alexander does not list Newman's The Rise and Progress of Universities in his bibliography, nor does he cite Newman's eloquent praises of Catholicism in England before Henry VIII and its horrific destruction in the "Second Spring":
Three centuries ago, and the Catholic Church, that great creation of God's power, stood in this land in pride of place. It had the honours of near a thousand years upon it; it was enthroned on some twenty sees up and down the broad country; it was based in the will of a faithful people; it energized through ten thousand instruments of power and influence; and it was ennobled by a host of Saints and Martyrs. The churches, one by one, recounted and rejoiced in the line of glorified intercessors, who were the respective objects of their grateful homage. Canterbury alone numbered perhaps some sixteen, from St. Augustine to St. Dunstan and St. Elphege, from St. Anselm and St. Thomas down to St. Edmund. York had its St. Paulinus, St. John, St. Wilfrid, and St. William; London, its St. Erconwald; Durham, its St. Cuthbert; Winton, its St. Swithun. Then there were St. Aidan of Lindisfarne, and St. Hugh of Lincoln, and St. Chad of Lichfield, and St. Thomas of Hereford, and St. Oswald and St. Wulstan of Worcester, and St. Osmund of Salisbury, and St. Birinus of Dorchester, and St. Richard of Chichester. And then, too, its religious orders, its monastic establishments, its universities, its wide relations all over Europe, its high prerogatives in the temporal state, its wealth, its dependencies, its popular honours,—where was there in the whole of Christendom a more glorious hierarchy? Mixed up with the civil institutions, with kings and nobles, with the people, found in every village and in every town,—it seemed destined to stand, so long as England stood, and to outlast, it might be, England's greatness.
But it was the high decree of heaven, that the majesty of that presence should be blotted out. It is a long story, my Fathers and Brothers—you know it well. I need not go through it. The vivifying principle of truth, the shadow of St. Peter, the grace of the Redeemer, left it. That old Church in its day became a corpse (a marvellous, an awful change!); and then it did but corrupt the air which once it refreshed, and cumber the ground which once it beautified. So all seemed to be lost; and there was a struggle for a time, and then its priests were cast out or martyred. There were sacrileges innumerable. Its temples were profaned or destroyed; its revenues seized by covetous nobles, or squandered upon the ministers of a new faith. The presence of Catholicism was at length simply removed,—its grace disowned,—its power despised,—its name, except as a matter of history, at length almost unknown. It took a long time to do this thoroughly; much time, much thought, much labour, much expense; but at last it was done. Oh, that miserable day, centuries before we were born! What a martyrdom to live in it and see the fair form of Truth, moral and material, hacked piecemeal, and every limb and organ carried off, and burned in the fire, or cast into the deep! But at last the work was done. Truth was disposed of, and shovelled away, and there was a calm, a silence, a sort of peace;—and such was about the state of things when we were born into this weary world.
Newman is not a medievalist, I concede, but there's more there than Alexander may be aware. I think Alexander misses out on exploring the Oxford Movement and High-Church Anglicanism after Newman's conversion even more. See this essay, for example. Alexander mentions how the High-Church Ritualists "sought true beauty in holiness," but does not describe how they combined great concern for beautiful churches and liturgies with care for the poor in other practical ways; the poor deserved beauty too: in art, architecture, and music in their churches and chapels.
I was also surprised that Alexander spent so little time on William Cobbett, whose extensive interest in the social history of the Middle Ages in England is prominently displayed in his History of the Protestant Reformation. Cobbett's defense of the monasteries in England before and during the English Reformation should be mentioned in those passages when Alexander discusses modern views of medieval monasticism. He mentions Lingard in passing too, but Father Lingard was no defender of the monasteries, especially just before their dissolution.
Alexander likes G.K. Chesterton and even comments that his students actually enjoyed reading The Ballad of the White Horse. He hints at the medievalism of some of Chesterton's followers like Christopher Hollis, Christopher Dawson, and others, but does not follow up on them, except for Eric Gill and David Jones. I'd like to read some of Hollis's works. I was surprised at his inclusion of Ezra Pound because I did not know that Pound was "an academic medievalist" with "two degrees specializing in early romance languages"!
Alexander expresses various concerns about how literature and history are taught, studied, written, and read. For all the advances in knowledge made in various academic fields since the eighteenth century, he recognizes that the Middle Ages have lost ground again. A unified, cohesive view of English history and literature is thwarted by specialization and uncertainty. No professional historian would present a Whig interpretation of history anymore, but without it, what creates the narrative? Belief in progress means the story goes somewhere. Modern secularists will not accept religion, that is Christianity, as the unifying vision of English history and literature, so we are left with a great and widening divide between academic study and popular history. Alexander notes that the BBC presents surveys of English history by Simon Schama, for example, and they are popular with audiences. He makes a derisive comment: "In popular legend, the only golden age which is reliable at the box office is the age of Elizabeth I, unspotted by the blood shed in enforcing religious uniformity and in colonising Ireland"; of course, the only martyrs in England were Protestant!
The author acknowledges that he could have explored other themes: the Jacobites, liturgical studies, cathedrals, public ceremonials like coronations and funerals, the Arts and Crafts movement, etc. Nevertheless, this is an entertaining and thought-provoking survey of Medievalism in England after the Reformation and the Enlightnment and through the 20th century. Excellent illustrations, too.
Acceptance and interest in the Middle Ages--the period between the Fall of Rome and the Renaissance--meant an encounter with Catholicism in Protestant, anti-Catholic England. Michael Alexander acknowledges this fact throughout his study of "The Middle Ages in Modern England". Reformation and Enlightenment Scotland and England had regarded those centuries as the Dark Ages of Faith--the Catholic Faith--and had derided them for superstition and error. As Alexander notes, however, the English parliamentary system had developed in the Middle Ages, so they were wrong to jettison that period. When the Houses of Parliament in Westminster were rebuilt after a devastating fire, the English style of architecture was ordered, and that style was Gothic. The designer of new buildings was A.W. Pugin, but he did not receive the credit for his contribution because he was a convert to Catholicism.
Alexander goes back often to Sir Walter Scott's poetry and historical novels as great inspirations to the revival of interest in the Middle Ages. He notes that John Henry Newman commented on how Scott created interest in the Catholic Middle Ages, even though Scott was not that sympathetic to Catholicism. I think that Alexander misses out on Newman's research into the Middle Ages--because he rightly notes that Newman was most interested in the early centuries of the Church--and neglects his "Second Spring" sermon and his study of the history of the university, which certainly addresses Medieval issues. Alexander does not list Newman's The Rise and Progress of Universities in his bibliography, nor does he cite Newman's eloquent praises of Catholicism in England before Henry VIII and its horrific destruction in the "Second Spring":
Three centuries ago, and the Catholic Church, that great creation of God's power, stood in this land in pride of place. It had the honours of near a thousand years upon it; it was enthroned on some twenty sees up and down the broad country; it was based in the will of a faithful people; it energized through ten thousand instruments of power and influence; and it was ennobled by a host of Saints and Martyrs. The churches, one by one, recounted and rejoiced in the line of glorified intercessors, who were the respective objects of their grateful homage. Canterbury alone numbered perhaps some sixteen, from St. Augustine to St. Dunstan and St. Elphege, from St. Anselm and St. Thomas down to St. Edmund. York had its St. Paulinus, St. John, St. Wilfrid, and St. William; London, its St. Erconwald; Durham, its St. Cuthbert; Winton, its St. Swithun. Then there were St. Aidan of Lindisfarne, and St. Hugh of Lincoln, and St. Chad of Lichfield, and St. Thomas of Hereford, and St. Oswald and St. Wulstan of Worcester, and St. Osmund of Salisbury, and St. Birinus of Dorchester, and St. Richard of Chichester. And then, too, its religious orders, its monastic establishments, its universities, its wide relations all over Europe, its high prerogatives in the temporal state, its wealth, its dependencies, its popular honours,—where was there in the whole of Christendom a more glorious hierarchy? Mixed up with the civil institutions, with kings and nobles, with the people, found in every village and in every town,—it seemed destined to stand, so long as England stood, and to outlast, it might be, England's greatness.
But it was the high decree of heaven, that the majesty of that presence should be blotted out. It is a long story, my Fathers and Brothers—you know it well. I need not go through it. The vivifying principle of truth, the shadow of St. Peter, the grace of the Redeemer, left it. That old Church in its day became a corpse (a marvellous, an awful change!); and then it did but corrupt the air which once it refreshed, and cumber the ground which once it beautified. So all seemed to be lost; and there was a struggle for a time, and then its priests were cast out or martyred. There were sacrileges innumerable. Its temples were profaned or destroyed; its revenues seized by covetous nobles, or squandered upon the ministers of a new faith. The presence of Catholicism was at length simply removed,—its grace disowned,—its power despised,—its name, except as a matter of history, at length almost unknown. It took a long time to do this thoroughly; much time, much thought, much labour, much expense; but at last it was done. Oh, that miserable day, centuries before we were born! What a martyrdom to live in it and see the fair form of Truth, moral and material, hacked piecemeal, and every limb and organ carried off, and burned in the fire, or cast into the deep! But at last the work was done. Truth was disposed of, and shovelled away, and there was a calm, a silence, a sort of peace;—and such was about the state of things when we were born into this weary world.
Newman is not a medievalist, I concede, but there's more there than Alexander may be aware. I think Alexander misses out on exploring the Oxford Movement and High-Church Anglicanism after Newman's conversion even more. See this essay, for example. Alexander mentions how the High-Church Ritualists "sought true beauty in holiness," but does not describe how they combined great concern for beautiful churches and liturgies with care for the poor in other practical ways; the poor deserved beauty too: in art, architecture, and music in their churches and chapels.
I was also surprised that Alexander spent so little time on William Cobbett, whose extensive interest in the social history of the Middle Ages in England is prominently displayed in his History of the Protestant Reformation. Cobbett's defense of the monasteries in England before and during the English Reformation should be mentioned in those passages when Alexander discusses modern views of medieval monasticism. He mentions Lingard in passing too, but Father Lingard was no defender of the monasteries, especially just before their dissolution.
Alexander likes G.K. Chesterton and even comments that his students actually enjoyed reading The Ballad of the White Horse. He hints at the medievalism of some of Chesterton's followers like Christopher Hollis, Christopher Dawson, and others, but does not follow up on them, except for Eric Gill and David Jones. I'd like to read some of Hollis's works. I was surprised at his inclusion of Ezra Pound because I did not know that Pound was "an academic medievalist" with "two degrees specializing in early romance languages"!
Alexander expresses various concerns about how literature and history are taught, studied, written, and read. For all the advances in knowledge made in various academic fields since the eighteenth century, he recognizes that the Middle Ages have lost ground again. A unified, cohesive view of English history and literature is thwarted by specialization and uncertainty. No professional historian would present a Whig interpretation of history anymore, but without it, what creates the narrative? Belief in progress means the story goes somewhere. Modern secularists will not accept religion, that is Christianity, as the unifying vision of English history and literature, so we are left with a great and widening divide between academic study and popular history. Alexander notes that the BBC presents surveys of English history by Simon Schama, for example, and they are popular with audiences. He makes a derisive comment: "In popular legend, the only golden age which is reliable at the box office is the age of Elizabeth I, unspotted by the blood shed in enforcing religious uniformity and in colonising Ireland"; of course, the only martyrs in England were Protestant!
The author acknowledges that he could have explored other themes: the Jacobites, liturgical studies, cathedrals, public ceremonials like coronations and funerals, the Arts and Crafts movement, etc. Nevertheless, this is an entertaining and thought-provoking survey of Medievalism in England after the Reformation and the Enlightnment and through the 20th century. Excellent illustrations, too.
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